Little Feet
by RorschachZodiac
Summary: Something is hurting deep inside Mal, and it is the kind of hurt that is both good and bad and altogether terrifying. Mal is scared and ashamed of it. He doesn't tell anyone about it, not until it starts to fight him. When it starts wanting to get out, Mal has no choice but to turn to Inara for help. Mal/Jayne and my own spin on Mpreg, if you don't like, don't read.
1. Chappie 1

**First things first: I LOVE FIREFLY. Love it to death. It's the greatest show ever. And I know there are some people who will not like my take on it in this story. That's okay. When it comes to mpreg and slash fics, I am very, VERY particular when it comes to the content and portrayal of the characters. I have hopes for this story being short, and I hope I have stayed true to the characters. This is how I think they would be acting in this situation. I also love to take pre-existent characters and put them in dastardly situations like this. If someone else had been writing the show, hey, it could have happened. But it didn't, except in the heads of the fans. So here's my spin on this kind of story. No it was not inspired by a really weird Firefly dream, what on Earth-That-Was would give you that idea?**

**Also, there will be Castle references. You'll know them when you see them.**

**So, if you don't like slash or mpreg, it's easy - DON'T READ THIS STORY.**

**If you're down with that and want to see what I have to offer, by all means, enjoy!**

**0-000-0**

As soon as _Serenity_ docked at Persephone and shut off her engines, it seemed to Malcolm Reynolds that his entire crew just... de-materialized. Even Wash, who was piloting the damn thing, vanished as soon as Mal turned around and then back again. The captain honestly couldn't blame them, seeing as they'd all been cooped up on _Serenity_ for months on end. They'd come dangerously close to running on empty.

Mal made a silent promise to never, _ever_ accept an escort job again. There was taking caution in planning a smuggling route, and _then_ there was the absurdity he and his crew had to put up with for the last four months. Sure, the money was good - better than good, actually - but was it worth the sanity they'd lost? No. So no more escort jobs that could last for months. And here Mal thought that shipping cows was the most annoying job he'd ever taken.

Slowly making his way out of the pilot cabin and into the cargo bay, Mal trudged along the catwalks as he watched the bay door open and his crew escape into the sunlight and the fresh air that stank of engine exhaust, bad marketplace food, and human sweat. Within a few seconds they had charged or walked down the ramp and into the docks, chattering amongst each other. River raced off side by side with Kaylee, with Simon in hot and probably worried pursuit. Wash and Zoe were heading off in another direction, and Jayne and Shepherd Book each went their separate ways. Mal suspected Inara was in her private shuttle, arranging for a client or something, so Mal was effectively alone on his ship.

Leaning heavily on the catwalk railing, Mal crinkled his nose at the smell being carried into _Serenity._ He didn't like that his sense of smell was sharper now. He didn't like that _any_ of his senses were sharper now. Normally he might like that - useful stuff, sharp senses. Not now.

Mal could have joined his crew, but he settled for watching them disappear, his gaze lingering on the dust and bright sunlight that was beckoning from outside _Serenity_. He just wanted to go back to his bunk and collapse until they came back, all loud and happy and crowding the ship. After a few minutes of staring off into space, jaw clenched unusually tight, Mal peeled himself away from the railing and dragged himself back into the depths of his ship.

As he descended down near the infirmary, Mal quietly considered popping in and running a quick checkup on himself. Normally, with everyone around, he ran the risk of one of them noticing - he was particularly worried about Simon, the gorram kid practically lived in the infirmary. Very rarely did Mal get the chance to do a checkup, and with everyone off the ship, he had the perfect opportunity.

He paused by the door for a little while, chewing his lip. _"Gos se,"_ he finally muttered under his breath, opening the door and ducking into the infirmary. Mal wasn't sure why he was doing this. What was the gorram _point_ anymore? It wasn't as if the scan would tell him something different today. Early on, yeah, he felt the need to have medical verification, but by now his own body was telling more than he wanted to know.

It took a little time to find the scanner. Simon was meticulous to a fault when it came to keeping the infirmary clean and organized, and Mal was sure he would respect that if it didn't annoy him so much when he couldn't find things. When he found the scanner, he sat down on the infirmary bed, legs hanging off the side. He stared at the scanner, running his thumb over the side as he considered whether or not he should turn it on and use it.

He really didn't want it to tell him what he already knew for a thirtieth or fortieth time. Then he thought about it, and he turned the scanner on and ran it down the length of his torso. Within a few seconds, it gave off a soft beep, letting him know it was done collecting information. As he scanned over the readings, Mal noticed nothing blatantly out of the ordinary.

_Ha. Ordinary._ As if that word could be used to describe him now. Setting the scanner back in its proper drawer, Mal exited the infirmary and resumed his walk through the ship.

Quiet. It was so quiet, it was almost irritating. Mal had spent that last few months wishing he was the only one on _Serenity_, but now that he had some precious alone time, he found himself missing his crew and their boisterous behavior. Gorram mood swings. Mal hated 'em. He hated feeling tired one second, angry the next. He hated feeling heavy.

A few times he even found himself hating Jayne. A year ago that wouldn't have come as much of a surprise to anyone, least of all Mal. Jayne was not an easy man to get along with, and the captain still didn't know if the mercenary still had ideas of shooting him as soon as someone offered him a better deal. Hopefully they'd moved past that. Jayne was... better now. Still crass as all hell, but he didn't seem bitter. Kaylee had mentioned something about Jayne not being so grumpy or rude anymore, and Mal could only think of that as a good thing.

Now, he didn't want to take credit for that, or anything...

To be honest, Jayne helped him, too. Mal had never accepted that... _part_ of himself before. Every time he claimed he wasn't sly, there was always that tiny part of him that argued otherwise, not that it was a complete lie. At first Inara was the only one who knew, since despite Mal's near-constant mocking of her profession, she was his closest confidante. Then Jayne found out a little more than a year ago thanks to some booze and some weird colony harvest festival.

Stupid. That was the word to describe Mal that night. He got just a little too friendly with the resident hired gun, and his ass had regretted it in the morning. What surprised Mal was that Jayne wasn't mad about it. If anything, the man had been... anxious? Embarrassed? Was there even a word to describe the expression Mal remembered seeing on his face, when he though Mal was going to leave his quarters without so much as saying a word?

As he walked, Mal leaned against the walls every few steps or so, bumping his shoulder and scraping a few inches before pulling back and standing up straight again. Jayne... the mercenary was a complication that liked to screw with Mal's head. First he was an enemy thug. Then he was a hired gun. Then he was a member of the crew. Then he was a friend. What was he now?

Mal's lover?

A wave of dull pain trembled through Mal, causing his hands to shake. The feeling passed soon enough.

He was sure almost everyone on the ship knew something was going on between them. Ever so often Mal caught River sending him one of her little knowing smiles that told him she knew things. He suspected the girl knew more than she was letting on, but he never questioned her about it. As for the others, well, they were smart. Too smart, sometimes. They had to know something about Jayne and Mal, but not about... _it_.

Mal shook his head, stopping in the middle of the hallway next to a ladder. His hand went out and fastened around one of the rungs, gripping the metal with a fervid intensity. Gorram, he missed his crew, but he missed Jayne more, and not just because he was off on the docks with the rest of them. Mal missed him because they hadn't been talking much recently. It was Mal's fault. He'd been subconsciously avoiding Jayne, and the man had picked up on Mal's distant attitude real quickly.

The captain hadn't seen the inside of Jayne's quarters in almost three weeks. They spoke to each other in passing, and the few times they'd passed in the hallways when no one else was around Mal found himself pinned to the wall for a few short minutes, fending off Jayne's aggressive lips. It never lasted long, and that little mournful glare Jayne gave Mal every time they parted cut deep into the captain. He was starting to hate himself for doing that to Jayne.

He kept telling himself he _had_ to do it, but Mal knew that was the fear talking. Recently he couldn't stand having Jayne touch him because it felt like he was lying to the man. How - _pain, why is there pain_ \- could Mal tell him about the heaviness, about the biting pain near his stomach, about the nausea that never seemed to go away? He suspected that Jayne wouldn't even believe him. He would just think Mal was playing some cruel joke.

Mal had never found the courage to tell Jayne about _it_.

The captain cut back a grimace as he headed toward his quarters for some much-needed downtime. As soon as he started thinking about _it_, a sharp pain stabbed him from the inside. It didn't feel much different from the tightness he'd been experiencing over the last month, just a little sharper. Mal remembered how long it had been since he first started noticing how gorram sick he felt. Nine. He hated that number now.

_Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo..._ he didn't have time for this. He would never have time for this. Inara kept telling him that it would be better if he told the crew, but how exactly was he supposed to do that? She'd only known for the past three months. Mal had kept _it_ a very closely guarded secret. You couldn't tell by looking at him, even if he was bare to the skin, which was how Jayne hadn't noticed _it_ yet.

Sometimes Mal felt like crying, but he never did. He was only tempted to when the pain got bad... when you feel his body changing. The crawling sensation festered beneath his skin, threatening to force him into seizures of agony with no hope of the pain fading away. No hope of screaming, for that matter. Mal considered himself lucky that the spasm had never got that bad. Mostly he just felt a dull ache, and it had been getting worse over the last few hours.

Sometimes he felt _it_ squirm.

Mal was never so scared as when he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat, all because he felt just the slightest tremor of movement from inside him. Those nights - and sometimes it happened in the middle of the day - he was reminded that _it_ was alive. _No thank you,_ he always thought. He didn't want _it_. _It_ would just complicate things for him as the captain, and _it_ wouldn't do the crew any good to have that kind of... infestation.

He was near his quarters. Just around the corner and he would safe in his bunk. It would feel much more welcome if Jayne was occupying it, but that couldn't be helped. Sooner or later - _pain pain PAIN_ \- the crew was bound to find out what was going on with their captain, and in that event, would Jayne want to even look at Mal anymore? Mal realized he should've spent the last few weeks relishing Jayne's touch instead of avoiding it.

Mal pressed his forearms against the hatch leading to his quarters. Tapping his head lightly against the metal, he shifted uneasily where he stood as he remembered touches, whispers, heat rising from bodies pressed together in a single bunk. Sometimes there was pain - _not like this pain not like this_ \- but mostly it was just pleasure, raw and feverish and very, very wonderful. It was the whispers Mal liked the most, though - little words that Jayne murmured when he was half asleep.

_Stay._

That was Mal's favorite. Despite the turmoil currently invading his thoughts, he managed a smile. Putting up the effort to clear his mind and make it easier for him to get to sleep, Mal leaned down and pressed on the hatch lever to enter his quarters.

As soon as he bent over, the ache in his stomach turned into a brutal spike of _pain_.

Letting out a guttural snarl, Mal collapsed into the wall, and the hatch slammed shut next to him. His body curled into itself, spasming as a wave of pain shot through his abdomen. It only lasted maybe fifteen seconds, but that was more than enough. When the pain finally faded, Mal found himself drenched in sweat and shivering. A pressure was building up inside him, and when combined with the churning feeling in his stomach...

Doubling over, Mal retched on the floor, the half-digested remains of breakfast vacating his stomach. A sour taste was left in his mouth, and he did his best to wipe the vomit from his face. Shuddering, Mal forced himself to his knees, and then to his feet, using the wall for support.

_"Tah mah duh hwoon dahn..."_ Mal grated out bitterly, his throat clenching against the threat of another wave of pain. This one was shorter than the first, but it hurt just as much, and Mal only barely managed to stay on his feet. "Gorram it," he hissed again. "Mother humping gorram it!"

_It_ wanted to get out. Mal knew it had to happen eventually. He just didn't want to think about it, so he'd shut the idea out of his head... he hadn't payed attention. He had no rutting idea what he was supposed to do now that it... now that _it_...

_PAIN PAIN PAIN-_

Inara. She was still on the ship, in her shuttle. She knew. She could help. She was the only one who could. Forcing his eyes open, Mal stumbled down the hall and up the nearest set of stairs. Inara's shuttle was on the other side of _Serenity,_ and it took all of Mal's strength to drag himself up the catwalks and in the direction of the Companion. All the while, he could feel a horrid, clammy wetness clinging to his skin.

He didn't want this to be happening now. He didn't want this to be happening at all. _It_ was inside him, struggling to get out, and Mal was terrified. He'd fought a war, he'd been shot, he'd been tortured... but this scared him. He couldn't smirk or shoot his way out of this. He could come racing in with _Serenity_ in the nick of time to get his people to safety. For one of the few times in his life, Malcolm Reynolds felt absolutely helpless.

_Inara..._

Her shuttle was just around the corner. Mal bit down hard on his tongue and forced his legs to carry him the rest of the way. She was the only one who could help him. He needed to get to Inara, and damn to _hell_ the fact that he wasn't invited.


	2. Chappie 2

The incense sticks in Inara's shuttle and the pleasing atmosphere they created were almost enough to send the woman into a deep sleep, but she remained awake, breathing in the soft scents. _Serenity_ was so quiet without her crew, and the ship felt very empty. Inara had no business on the planet currently, hence why she remained behind while everyone else went off to enjoy the feeling of being on a planet again.

Inara couldn't remember if Mal had gone with them or not... she guessed not. They hadn't spoken in a few days, but he'd mentioned that he was feeling under the weather. Inara had offered him some a couple of her incense sticks to help him relax, but the captain wasn't interested. Mal could be a damn stubborn fool, and now of all times... Inara was not above admitting that she was worried for the man.

She had feelings for Mal, but not in the traditional romantic sense. He knew he could trust her, and despite his comments about her business, he respected her. A few years ago Mal had even confessed to her one of his more well-hidden secrets. When people asked if Mal was sly, and he said no, he wasn't lying. He was... half and half. And the man did _not_ like it.

Inara supposed she had Jayne to thank for opening Mal's eyes to the idea that who he was wasn't something to be ashamed of. In this day and age Mal's 'attitude' toward both women and men was perfectly acceptable, at least in higher society. Some colonies still held on to old prejudices, though.

But there wasn't that kind of prejudice on _Serenity_. Mal should be able to feel safe on his own ship.

Trying to distract herself from the honestly annoying behavior of _Serenity's_ captain, Inara thought about her clients. After that little 'shindig' with Atherton Wing, Inara wasn't too partial to staying on Persephone, so she would have to hope for a better clientèle on one of the planets _Serenity_ would soon be visiting now that her crew had finally been payed. The stop at Persephone's docks was just to refuel and let the crew stretch their legs, and then Mal was sure to lead them off to the black star-speckled vastness of space again.

Incense smoke wafted through the shuttle, clinging to the curtains and Inara's skin. The woman had her eyes closed and was starting to drift off when she heard a loud thumping sound, like footsteps, but... wrong. The sounds had no rhythm to them, and instead they crashed against Inara's ears. Then something slammed against the wall near her, and her eyes flew open.

When she stood to confront the intruder, Inara was not prepared to see Mal come stumbling through the open door, sweat and an expression of pain covering his face. Inara was almost about to ask what had happened, but she was stopped short when she realized that Mal was pressing one arm against his stomach. He was doubled over on the wall, shaking so bad he looked like he was ready to fall over.

_"Ta ma de,_ Mal!" Inara exclaimed, rushing over to grab the man before he collapsed. "Is it-"

"Yes," he cut her off sharply, leaning heavily on Inara as she positioned herself under the arm that wasn't pressed against his stomach. _"Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo,_ I don't need this right now..." Mal grated out, his teeth clamped down hard and his jaw trembling.

Inara let out a snorting chuckle that was almost a scoff. "Mal... I don't think there's ever going to be a 'good' time for this..."

She was surprised when Mal laughed in return, albeit a weak and slightly hysterical laugh. "I reckon there's some truth to that," he said with a grimace as Inara tried to guide him to her bed. Unfortunately they didn't make it that far. After only two steps, Mal let out a snarling hiss, and his legs gave out underneath him. Inara could only barely catch him in time to stop him from falling on his face.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as Mal curled into himself, his whole body trembling. This wave of pain seemed to last only half a minute, but that was too long in Inara's opinion. After it passed, Mal let out a haggard breath and sagged against the wall. Inara silently decided that maybe it would be best not to move him, but she could at least make him more comfortable.

While Mal caught his breath after the spasm, Inara fetched several pillows from her bed and set one up between Mal's back and the wall. He shifted from one side to the other to let her put the other underneath him, and then he tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

Inara wished she could let the captain rest, but there was no time for that. "Mal," she whispered, "How long has it been hurting?"

At first he didn't answer. "Mal!" Inara said more loudly. "Mal, I need you to tell me how long you've been hurting. Did it just start before you got here?"

Finally Mal gave a response, opening his eyes a little and shaking his head. Inara gulped and revised her time line. "Hours?" she asked.

A nod this time, accompanied by a few hoarse words. "Was just aching... then it got worse, five or ten minutes ago I figure." Mal then winced, his top lip curling up away from his teeth. "Felt like Niska had me again."

Now Inara found herself biting her lip at the memory of Niska and the torture Mal and Wash had been forced to endure. She didn't like the comparison between what Niska had done and what was happening to Mal's body now, but that was only because Inara held a sentiment for this kind of event. In Mal's case, unfortunately, there was no real precedence for how to handle it. How would it be different? How would his body be affected? And, despite the fact that Inara hated thinking about it, what were Mal's chances of survival?

"Mal," Inara said softly, pressing her hands to the captain's shoulders. He looked her in the eye as she continued, "I'm going to help as best I can, but I need to know if you ran any tests recently, and if they showed something different. Normally this would be expected, seeing as you're near the end of the third trimester, but you have to tell me if the ba-"

"Don't!" Mal interrupted harshly, his chest falling and rising rapidly. "Don't... don't call it that. _Please."_

Inara pursed her lips at the frustrating denial that Mal was displaying. Ever since he'd found out what was happening inside his body, he'd refused to even acknowledge the fact that there was new life inside him. He was scared of the consequences he would have to deal with provided he even survived the next few hours. He was scared of the idea that he was unnatural. The fact was that Mal's particular situation was not unheard of, though it was extremely rare, and most people tended to ignore it and pretend people like Mal didn't exist.

Inara didn't blame him. But even Mal would have to admit that regardless of his personal fears, the fragile little thing inside of him had no choice in the matter. It couldn't be blamed for the pain Mal was suffering. Well, technically it could, but still... Mal's refusal to accept it bothered Inara.

Before Inara could think much more about this, Mal suddenly snapped his body against the wall, gritting his teeth and letting out a choked scream. Inara could see the muscles in his neck straining, and she imagined the rest of his body looked the same under his clothes. This time Inara counted how long this spasm lasted, and it was about thirty seconds before Mal was allowed to relax, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

Flicking his eyes over to Inara, Mal focused on her with the most pleading and desperate look she'd ever seen. "Inara," he gasped weakly, "Please, just... help me. Don't want to think about it. Just want it over." Squeezing his eyes shut, Mal folded his arms over his chest and pressed down hard. Inara wondered how much pain he was in. She had several friends who had experienced this same thing... they all said it hurt worse than anything.

Childbirth. The greatest of pains, and the kind of thing a man was likely to never understand. Except Mal.

Inara thought of her friends. Yes, the process was agonizing, but they also said that what happened after the pain was gone was the best moment of their lives. Inara didn't think Mal wanted to hear that right now. She banished her thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand. She knew the crew wanted to spend the entire day on Persephone, and wouldn't likely be back for several hours. Since Mal had said that the pain had been growing for a few hours leading up to this point, Inara assumed that the birth - and she wished Mal would just say the word, instead of hiding from it - would be over before the crew returned.

But what would happen then?

"Inara..." Mal croaked again. "Please."

Inara looked at Mal and smiled, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. "It's going to be okay, Mal. I promise. I'll help you get through this."

Mal just grimaced and shuffled against the wall, mumbling something that sounded a bit like _ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng._ At least Mal was still lively enough to be cussing. If he went silent, then Inara would start getting worried. Still holding onto his hand, she settled down on her knees in front of him. At the moment, all they could do was wait for the next spasm of pain. Eventually they would get more regular, and by then Inara would be able to judge how long the birth could be expected to take. She wouldn't deny that she was nervous - she'd never actually witnessed the act of child-bearing. She only had a well-read knowledge of the subject, which would have to be enough.

Inara had confidence in Mal. If there was a man alive who could struggle through this gut-wrenching pain, it was him.

"Come on, Mal. You can do this."

Mal looked like he tried to grin, tried to shrug off the sensation of sweat clinging to his skin and a _thing_ moving inside of him. Then, a fresh wave of pain surfaced, and his guttural scream pierced the cabin. Inara braced her hands on the man's shoulders as he bent over, knees and arms shaking. His scream lasted almost as long as the spasm - or more accurately, the contraction.

Inara sighed in tandem with Mal's harsh gasps as soon as the contraction passed. This was going to take a while. She only hoped Mal had the strength and the willingness for it.

**0-000-0**

Lunch at the small open-air restaurant was going fantastically until River glanced up all of a sudden. Kaylee paused halfway through her strawberries - a present from Book, and who knew where'd he gotten them - and cast a puzzled glance at the girl. Simon just looked worried, as usual. "What is it, River?" Simon asked from where he sat opposite Kaylee.

River just stared into space, and the rest of the table's occupants stared at her. "It's happening," she murmured.

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. "What's happening?"

"Just things." River then lowered her head and gave Simon a smile that bordered on cheeky. "Little things. Doesn't matter right now. It's just starting. It'll get there soon." As soon as she said this, River returned to her sandwich, leaving the rest of the crew more than a little puzzled. Pretty soon they just shrugged it off and returned their attention to food as well. Simon was the only one who let his gaze linger on his sister a few moments longer. She was getting better recently, and whenever she said things like that... Simon didn't think it was serious, since River wasn't screaming or cringing against the nearest wall.

Little things... Simon supposed he could ignore little things. Whatever they were.

"Hey, Zoe," Kaylee said, bumping her shoulder against the older woman's arm, "Did you see that little dress store down in town? It weren't here last time we docked. You wanna come look at it with me after lunch?"

Wash instantly perked up as soon as he heard this. "Dress store? Zoe, do you want a dress? Because I can buy you a dress. I could get one for Kaylee too, though she'll probably just get engine grease all over it." The man paused, stabbing his fork absent-mindedly into a tomato. "Though now that I think about it, honey, considering our line of work you might get some bullet holes in a dress, or some poor idiot's blood... now, there's really no point in wasting a good dress, even if it _is_ a slinky one."

_"Hoot-suh,_ Wash," Zoe said with a smile, elbowing her husband in the side before turning to Kaylee. "I make no promises to my husband about buying anything, but I'll take a look with you." Kaylee practically glowed with excitement, wrapping an arm around Zoe and squeezing her tight. The other occupants of the table could have sworn they heard a giggle from the mechanic.

"Hey, River! Wanna join me an' Zoe and look at some dresses? I saw some real pretty ones with ruffles and ribbons!"

Shaking his head at Zoe and Kaylee, Wash leaned back in his seat and let out a sigh. From where he sat beside the pilot, Jayne shot the man a glower. Not seeming to notice, Wash mused aloud, "Looks like it's just me and the plastic dinosaurs tonight, seeing how my wife's been kidnapped by our mechanic, our doctor's sister, and a bunch of frilly dresses."

Jayne snorted. Now weren't that a notion. He'd never seen Zoe in a dress, though his mind had seen fit to wander some times. Kaylee and Inara were the ones with the dresses. Jayne liked a lack of clothing... and pants. And Mal.

On an absurd whim, he thought about Mal in a dress. Two seconds later he choked on his drink.

Book noticed Jayne sputtering and patted him twice on the back, though he withdrew his hand as soon as Jayne shot a withering glare at the preacher. Wiping the spittle from his mouth, he growled lowly and tried to figure out where the hell that idea came from. Forgiving that one time Mal costumed himself in that cotton dress on that moon where they met Saffron or Brigid or whatever the hell her name was... Jayne knew Mal joked about dresses and the act of wearing them, but he'd never really seen Mal in one aside from that admittedly strange job. Jayne suppressed a chuckle, but then frowned.

Jayne remembered calling Mal a 'powerful ugly creature'. Those words sure got turned around on him, didn't they? Jayne wasn't sure if he could actually say those words in honesty anymore. Not to Mal.

Why was he still thinking about this? He'd laughed at the dress idea, after he was done choking, and now he was back to thinking about the gorram captain.

He wanted to be mad at Mal, but so far his brain weren't cooperating.

"Jayne? Earth to Jayne?" Wash was talking again. Jayne swallowed a chunk of barbecued dog and raised a leering eyebrow at the pilot. "Seeing how we've been abandoned by the only pleasant company to be found on this charming planet, why don't we find the rest of the supplies we need and head back to _Serenity?" _

Jayne snorted. "You tryin' to imply that I ain't pleasant company?"

Wash shrugged absent-mindedly, proclaiming, "Now, Jayne, that would be a matter of opinion - but for our lovely ladies, the pleasantness is universal. Unless one of them's covered in engine grease." He tilted his head to the side. "Or blood. Come to think of it, Zoe wouldn't be universally pleasing if she was a corpse all of a sudden..."

Without so much as looking over her shoulder, Zoe reached out and smacked her husband on the arm. Beside her, Kaylee and River laughed while Wash rubbed his arm and looked at his wife with mock betrayal written on his face. Jayne joined the girls in further laughing at the pilot, while Book and Simon just focused on food and the Bible, respectively.

When it seemed no one was speaking, Book raised his head and stepped into the conversation. "I agree with Wash. We've been out here for..."

"Four hours, twenty-two-minutes, eight seconds," River supplied with a bright smile.

Book took the interruption in stride and nodded graciously to the girl. "Thank you, River. As I was saying, we have been out here long enough, and the captain expressed his wishes to make this a quick stop so we can get on our way. I believe we should collect the remaining supplies we need and return to the ship, provided the ladies will agree to only spending a short time in the dress store."

Kaylee giggled. "Don't worry, Shepherd, we won't make the captain wait. He really shoulda come with us... I mean, don't he want to stretch his legs? He was just as cooped up as we were. Him and Inara both, don't see why we just left them with Serenity."

Simon cast a glance at both Kaylee and river, sipping what Jayne suspected was tea out of his mug. "Maybe she's doing his hair," the doctor said quietly.

Jayne spurted his drink again, almost hitting Wash this time. Kaylee just laughed in surprise and whacked Simon on the forearm. "Simon! Don't be talkin' that way about the captain behind his back! Besides, his hair ain't pretty enough for Inara to do anything with it." Then a devilish grin formed on the mechanic's face. "She could pin up _your_ hair, though."

The good doctor immediately reddened. Kaylee promptly leaned across the table and pecked a quick kiss on the young man's cheek, causing him to blush even more. "I, uh," Simon stammered, "I have some medical supplies I should, uh, pick up... before the ship leaves..." Standing up a little too quickly, Simon ducked away from the table and back into the crowds of the Persephone docks.

Within a few minutes, Zoe, Kaylee, and River made like the doctor and up and vanished from the table. Wash shook his head and laughed as Kaylee and River hooked arms and jogged off together, followed by his wife. Book seemed ready to be done with lunch and go back to finding the supplies _Serenity_ needed, while Jayne was more than content to just sit there a while longer. He had no desire to go back to the ship anytime soon.

Wash had other ideas, apparently. "Come on, Jayne, we should grab what we still need and get back to the ship." Clapping a hand on Jayne's shoulder, Wash slung a leg over the bench and went to go get the mule bike parked a few feet away from the restaurant tables. Lip curling back into a disgruntled snarl, Jayne stood up and slowly trailed after Wash as the sound of the mule's engine started up. Jayne didn't so much as pay attention to the Shepherd - he was someplace nearby, and that was all he cared to know.

The question was still nagging at his brain pan, though. Why hadn't the captain left the ship with them?

Jayne huffed and piled that question on top of all the other ones he'd been having about Mal recently. He thought they were solid. Jayne always thought he would only find appeal in women - still was the case, mostly - but Mal made things complicated. The mercenary still felt just a hint of resentment toward the captain for kissing him when he was drunk out of his mind. But just a hint. He hadn't expected to like it so much. Hell, he never expected to like _Mal_ so much. In the past year, Jayne hadn't so much as thought about turning on the captain as soon as someone offered him enough money. Jayne was sure that was supposed to be unlike him, 'cept he didn't mind it at all. Neither did Mal.

Now Jayne was puzzling over that, and them, and everything, mostly why Mal was staying away from him. It weren't like they'd had a fight, like some of the fights Wash and Zoe had every now and then. Almost a month ago, the captain just started avoiding Jayne, and Jayne tried to figure out why. He tried very bluntly, resorting to tactics like shoving the other man against walls when no one else was nearby. Mal would stay there for a minute and then duck away, not so much as looking at Jayne.

Now, the hired gun would never, _ever_ admit this to anyone, but that rejection _hurt_, gorram it.

Jayne didn't like the way it sounded in his head - or the way it made his stomach uneasy - but he realized there was a chance that the captain didn't want him anymore. They'd never laid down any rules to their relationship, if it could even be called that, so it wasn't too far-fetched to think that Mal had grown tired of Jayne. Maybe they were done. After plenty of one night stands and half-baked attempts at relationships with women, why should Jayne expect anything different from Mal?

Maybe because he lov-

_No, I don't._ Jayne didn't think he was, anyhow. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to tell, so he generally avoided thinking about it. Or saying it. Maybe that was eating Mal? Nah, couldn't be. It weren't as if Mal had ever said anything like that, either. Jayne didn't think that was an excuse for Mal to just suddenly start pretending as if Jayne weren't there. So it was something else. Gorram it, he wished this didn't _bother_ him so much.

"Come on, you two!" Wash called, revving the mule and bringing it around to meet his companions. "I'd like to get back to _Serenity_ before our good captain dies of loneliness! Or before Inara gets so fed up with him that she abandons us entirely!"

Wash meant it as a joke, and Book chuckled softly at it. Jayne just scoffed under his breath, bitterness making its way into the back of his brain.

Yeah. He hoped the captain was having a _great_ hell of a time alone on his ship.

**0-000-0**

**((I realize I should've put the Mandarin translations into the previous chapter. I'll start doing that from now on.))**

**Previous Chapter:**

**_Gorram_**** \- (pretty obvious I think) Damn**

**_Gos se -_**** Crap**

**_Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo_**** \- Shove all the planets in the universe up my ass**

**_Tah mah duh hwoon dahn_**** \- Mother humping son of a bitch**

**This Chapter:**

**_Ta ma de_**** \- Dammit**

**_Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng_**** \- Frog-humping son of a bitch**

_**Hoot-suh**__ -_ **Shut up**


	3. Chappie 3

**A/N: Shout out to ****Quiet Ryter****, thanks for sticking with the story! Glad you enjoy it :)**

**0-000-0**

The pain was back again, and it felt just like that three-pronged nightmare that Niska used to kill him with that one time. Each breath was like sandpaper scraping at his throat, and Mal's voice was hoarse and raw from every choked scream.

"Just breathe, Mal," Inara whispered, "just breathe."

Inara. She was... somewhere in front of Mal. He hadn't been able to open his eyes in a while, but he felt her hand. Every time the pain came back, her hand was there. Mal figured he'd broken at least one of her fingers by now. Gorram it, his whole body felt like it was breaking. And weak... he felt weak. Like that time he was shot, left alone and bleeding on _Serenity_ with a compression coil and no crew.

'Cept this was worse.

How long had the pain been coming and going? Little less than an hour, Mal guessed. The spasms, or whatever the gorram hell Inara had called them - contractions? - were coming every three minutes now. Another one was fixing to come soon, within the next few seconds...

Mal writhed against the wall as another burst of pain split his abdomen, and he let out a harsh scream through clenched teeth. He heard Inara in the distance, telling him to breathe... why couldn't he breathe? His chest felt like it was imploding, like he'd breathed in smoke. His shirt was soaked and clinging to his skin, and his pants...

No, his pants were gone. Inara had managed to get them off of him. Said something about them being in the way. Mal was sickened by the idea that he knew exactly what she was talking about. He hadn't completely avoided what was happening to him - he _did_ know how this thing was supposed to work. Problem was, the books only talked about when it happened with women. He wasn't a woman. He seriously doubted it felt like this for them.

"Son of a _bitch_," Mal snarled weakly as the contraction passed. He suddenly found himself flashing back to those times his mother shot him a raised and glaring eyebrow and regaled him with horror stories of his own birth. The captain found he respected his mother more now for getting through this pain and being able to joke about it afterwards, when her son was older and still cringing at the idea of birth-giving.

Mal was cringing now. His whole body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing about the situation that even resembled positive was Inara. Without her... no, Mal didn't want to think about that. Looking back it was stupid of him to try and hide anything from Inara, and though she knew about _it_ by accident, Mal was still relieved that someone was able to help him. It was hard enough to not tell Zoe, who he should've been able to trust... and Jayne. Now Jayne was going to know, and he was going to hate Mal for it. Maybe the whole crew would.

"Mal!" Inara's voice called. She sounded distant, but her voice got clearer when her hand slapped against the side of Mal's head gently. "Mal, you have to stay awake. I know it must hurt, but you have to focus!"

_Awake? 'Course I'm... gorram it._ Mal hadn't even noticed that he was fading. His body was exhausted, and he wanted to go to sleep or black out or lose all capability of sensation. Any of those options would stop this rutting pain.

"Think of this as a... as a job, Mal, a job you have to complete," Inara continued. Mal slumped his head to the side and looked at her with half-lidded eyes. She tried to smile encouragingly at him, but the attempt was weak, and the Companion bit her lip. "If it helps, don't think about... _it_." Mal let out a wheezing breath that tried to become a snort. Inara was trying so hard not to call _it_ by its actual name. Mal knew what _it_ was... a baby. He just didn't want to know that. Maybe that was why he hadn't told anyone.

Easier to ignore the truth when you were the only one who knew. It was less of a truth that way.

Mal winced. He was a gorram _idiot_.

Inara's hand was resting on his knee, and he found his way to her fingers with his and grabbed onto her tightly. Pressure was building up inside him, threatening to pull him back into darkness if he didn't fight to stay awake and coherent. A queasy feeling, like sleep deprivation and undercooked food, wasn't helping him focus, either. It felt like he was going to throw up at some point - and he was sure it said something about his priorities when his only thought was that he didn't want to throw up on the floor of Inara's shuttle. Never mind the fact that his body was practically deconstructing itself in order to let something get out.

The only soothing thing that Mal could find in this agonizing situation was the sound of Inara's voice. Inara... she put up with so much from him, didn't she? Callin' her a whore and insulting her choice of occupation, putting her through hell knows how many bad situations with his own line of work... the same could pretty much be said for any of his crew, loyal fools that they were, but Inara seemed to fit into a special category. She was still here, after all this time. Mal made a mental note to never again underestimate her, even for a second.

Though, truth be told, he should probably be more worried about his own abilities, and he had a feeling that he was overestimating them. He thought he was tough, having survived a gorram war when he was on the losing side. And there was the time with Niska to take into account... but this pain just kept coming, and a horrid idea was forming in Mal's head as to why the pain was getting worse. It was coming in predictable waves now, rippling through his body like fire on the inside of _Serenity_.

"Inara..." he croaked, clenching his teeth down hard and shifting against the wall until he was sitting up straighter.

Her voice was there in a second. "I'm here, Mal."

_Straining, struggling, clawing at his insides..._ "Inara, I think it's... _tah-shr suo-yo dee-yure duh biao-tze duh mah_, it's starting to..." A harsh breath prevented Mal from finishing that sentence, but he had the feeling that Inara understood what he was trying to say. Her face paled only slightly, and she placed a tentative hand over Mal's stomach, as if to try and feel what his body was doing. If the look on her face said anything, it said she knew just as well as Mal, and she liked it about as much, too.

"Mal... I know you're not going to like this..." Mal's chest tightened, heart throbbing and thrashing against his ribcage like a convict trying to escape prison. He knew what she was going to say. He hated it. Inara must've seen the discomfort hidden behind his squeezed-shut eyelids, because she paused for a moment - but only a moment. Then she continued softly, "Mal, I know you don't want to hear me tell you what to do - let's face it, you don't like anyone telling you what to do - but you have to listen to me now. I just want you to concentrate on breathing. Listen to what your body is telling you. Try not to pay attention to what I'm doing."

His neck was stiff from cringing. It took a bit of effort, but Mal managed a nod. As Inara instructed, he focused on each next inhale and exhale, and he tried not to think about anything else. For the most part it worked, but he was still distantly aware of Inara gently pushing on his knees, slowly prying his legs apart. He had to fight the instinct to slam his legs closed, to cower against the wall and crumple into a ball of pain and fear.

"Mal." Her voice. Why did it seem so far away? It was like she was whispering, drowned out by a new ringing sound in Mal's ears. Still, even if he could hear her, it seemed like his body was listening. And she'd told him to listen to his body, and despite his initial and utter refusal to acknowledge what was happening, he was listening now. Inara's words were translated in the ripple of pressure building in his abdomen, the subtle feeling of movement inside him, and the overwhelming urge to _get it out_.

"Mal, you need to push."

The ripple turned into a crushing wave of dense, aching pain. It gnawed at his insides until it started getting sharper. As the contraction intensified, Mal squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his entire body, particularly his abdomen. For a few moments, he stopped breathing entirely in favor of putting all his energy into pushing. Ten, fifteen seconds passed before the contraction ended, and the only bright spot Mal could find was that he was just a little closer to it being over.

He was allowed to breathe easily for a little under a minute before it started again. Just like the first time, Inara's voice was there. She sounded so demanding... but to be honest, Mal probably wouldn't have listened otherwise. "Again, Mal," she urged. "Push!"

The contraction was stronger this time, and Mal screamed outright. He pressed down, buckling into himself and dropping his chin to his chest, but he kept pushing. He hated it, but he kept it up until it was over. His heartbeat was hammering in his chest like thunder. It hurt. It hurt so gorram much, and he knew it was going to continue. He didn't know for how long, but any time at all was still too much. He just wanted it over.

"You're doing good, Mal," Inara breathed. Mal shifted his gaze over to her and saw a smile of encouragement on her face. He shook his head and let out a half-choked breath that was almost a laugh.

"Inara... thank you," he murmured, each syllable lingering thick and heavy on his tongue.

She chuckled. "You're welcome, Mal. Now just concentrate. I can see its head, you're almost there."

Mal didn't catch the last part. All he knew was he could feel it inside him, struggling to get out, and he'd be dammed if he was going to let it keep hurting him for any longer than he had to. Then again, he was sure he was already dammed, in one way or another, though this kind of pain seemed a little extreme even for Hell. Grating his teeth, he choked back another scream and braced for the next contraction.

The pain kept coming and going. Eventually it felt like Mal was reaching his breaking point, if he hadn't passed it already, and he was sure Inara had to be nearing the end of her sanity and patience. As the most recent contraction ended, Mal sagged to the wall, chest heaving as he sucked in haggard breath after haggard breath. Twisting his neck and shoulders, he tried to find some kind of comfort in where he was sitting, but everything just felt cold and hard and sharp and agonizing.

He had to be near the end, right?

"Come on, Mal, just a little more...!" Inara urged, her voice breathy and anxious. Mal writhed against the wall, every breath coming short and harsh and his muscles straining in desperation. His body was depleted. He had no strength left in him, but still he forced himself to bite down and push. It was almost over. His sides throbbed, and a choked scream left his lungs. Inara... she was somewhere, but he couldn't see her anymore. He could still feel her, though - one hand braced on his knee and the other holding onto his.

"Good job, Mal. Good job," he heard her whisper. "You're almost there. Just one more time."

One more... he could do that, couldn't he? He supposed he didn't have a choice. Besides, Malcolm Reynolds wasn't a man to give up, not like this. Oh, he wanted to just give up and lay there until his body tore itself to pieces, but it was just one more time. One more time, one more wave of pain, and it would be over. Over and done, at least until he came to his senses. At the moment, he'd forgotten that this kind of situation was never exactly _over_.

The pain came again, one more time. This time, above the sound of his voice scraping against the inside of his throat and above the stench of sweat and blood, he could feel it slipping. He could feel it leaving him. Somewhere, he heard Inara gasp sharply, and she suddenly ripped her hands away from Mal. Forcing his eyes to open, the captain saw a blurry figure that he assumed was Inara. She was looking at him, or more specifically, a part of him she probably never really wanted to see. For the moment Mal didn't care one way or the other.

It was gone. The pain was gone.

Mal collapsed against the wall, shivering and breathing in hoarse wheezes. He was drenched in sweat, and his shirt was sticking to his skin in an uncomfortable way, but at least he wasn't being split open anymore. The pain was gone. It was over. As he shifted against the wall, trying to find some position where he didn't just ache everywhere, Mal felt something else leave his body, leaving a slithering sensation in its wake. He heard Inara moving, moving away from him and over to where he thought her table was. In a moment she was back.

Opening his eyes until he could just barely see, Mal saw the glint of scissors in Inara's hand. He heard the sound of them snipping, but he didn't know what they were snipping. At least, he didn't know until he heard _it_.

It started softly. In fact, Mal wasn't even sure if he was hearing anything to begin with. Then it got louder, until he could hear it very clearly. Only then did he force himself to open his eyes all the way. He almost wished he hadn't. Hearing it was bad enough. Crying... it was crying. At least it wasn't screaming... but still. The sound of its cries was more than enough to remind Mal of this strange and cruel reality he now lived in, and he wanted to hate it. He wanted to hate it so badly.

He looked away. He turned his head to the wall and looked away.

While Mal recovered, Inara was busy cleaning the mess from her shuttle. As soon as she finished wiping the blood and other fluids from her hands and from the floor, she shoved the cloth away and payed no more attention to it. She did the same thing with the afterbirth. She could worry about getting rid of that later. In the meantime, there was a much larger issue occupying her mind. Already that 'issue' had started crying.

Quickly Inara retrieved one of the smaller blankets from her bed and wrapped the fabric around the tiny pinkish thing that was so new to the world. She'd already cut and tied the placenta, and as soon as she wrapped the little one in the blanket Inara glanced up at Mal. The man was looking away. Inara pursed her lips, just a little bit irritated by the fact that Mal still refused to acknowledge everything that had just happened. He was a gorram idiot, but Inara didn't say that. He'd probably told himself that enough already.

She reminded herself that Mal's situation was rather unique, and he had a right to be uncomfortable. But that didn't mean Inara couldn't try to encourage him just a little bit. "Mal?" she began softly. She was startled by how choked up she sounded. She hadn't expected that, but... she had a good reason to be a little emotional. "Mal, please, just... just look at her."

Inara saw his throat clench. After a sharp yet quiet breath, she heard Mal mumble, "'Her'?"

_Finally_. There was hope for the captain yet. Inara felt a smile split her face, and she nodded. "Yes. It's a girl. Mal... Mal, she's _beautiful_. Please. Just look at her. You can at least do that."

A heartbeat passed by in silence, and Inara wasn't sure if Mal would listen to her. Then the baby, the tiny newborn girl, started to cry again. It was subtle, but Inara could see that Mal was fighting the temptation to ignore the sounds. Then, slowly but surely, the man turned his head and looked at the baby girl. He swallowed harshly, and the little one kept crying. Inara thought it looked like Mal was ready to cry, but he didn't. His whole body was shaking, though.

Without a word, Inara moved closer and held out her arms. Mal's eyes flicked over to her, and his mouth hung open slightly, as if he wanted to say something or tell her to take the baby away. Inara half expected him to say something along those lines, but Mal wasn't a heartless man. Far from it, in fact, and a few moments later he proved it again. He was hesitant, and understandably so, but he lifted his arms slowly and took the wrapped up infant from Inara. As she passed the little girl to him, she could feel Mal's arms tremble. The man was exhausted.

But he was holding her. Mal was holding the baby, the little girl... his daughter. Inara had no idea if he was thinking of her like that, and she didn't really expect him to make that connection, not yet. Right now, it was enough that the pain was over with and both of them were safe and relatively undamaged. As far as Inara could tell, the baby girl was healthy. Her cries were soft but strong.

Standing up, Inara was aware of Mal following her movements as she walked toward the shuttle door. Turning her head back to look at him, she said, "I'm just going to find you a change of clothes. I doubt you want to stay in those for much longer." Mal most likely had a nervous disposition toward being alone with the infant that had just put him through so much stress, but he was going to have to get used to her. As soon as Mal nodded, Inara ducked out into _Serenity_ and made haste for Mal's quarters.

Mal watched Inara leave and listened to her footsteps until they disappeared. Only then did he glance back down at the infant girl in his arms. Swallowing uncertainly, he tried to figure out what to do with her now. At the moment, he didn't particularly feel like moving anywhere, so he just settled against the wall in a semi-comfortable position.

When he moved, the infant squirmed. Mal froze at the feeling of her wriggling in his arms. Due to Inara wrapping her in a blanket, Mal could only see the infant's face and one of her hands. For about a minute he just stared at her, wondering what the gorram hell he was going to do with her. _Serenity_ was not equipped for children, least of all babies. This life was a dangerous one. There was no guarantee the infant would be safe all of the time.

Mal wondered why he was thinking about this. It sounded to him like his brain was planning on keeping the tiny girl.

_Daughter, Mal. She's your daughter,_ his brain insisted. He grunted and shook his head, trying to ignore that detail. Unfortunately, it wouldn't leave him alone. It was festering in the front of his mind, and it was giving him a headache. The infant wasn't helping much - she was still squirming, and making little whimpering sounds. Her tiny fist was resting upon his chest, and event through his sweat-drenched shirt he could feel her. Though he wasn't sure why he did it, Mal slowly lifted one hand and brushed his index finger against her hand. Instantly the little girl's hand wrapped around his finger, and Mal shuddered.

She was so tiny. She was tiny, soft, and warm, and...

_What the hell am I doing?_

Mal was grateful that Inara came back a few moments later. If she hadn't arrived with fresh clothes and a distraction, he would've thought himself into some kind of coma. He'd spent months ignoring the fact that the baby girl in his arms even existed. He'd spent the last several hours pushing her out of his body, and he thought he was going to go right back to ignoring her existence.

Instead...

"She's beautiful, isn't she, Mal?" Inara murmured as she set the clothes on her bed. Mal couldn't see her face, but he could hear her smiling. She'd tried to coerce him into talking about the infant before, back when she first found out about it. He imagined she felt a special kind of vindication, seeing the captain holding the tiny girl. Mal couldn't find the willingness to be disgruntled about that.

He settled for a hoarse whisper. "She is."

Inara skirted around the still-wet floor near Mal and knelt down beside him. She made a motion with her arms, gesturing as if she wanted Mal to hand the infant back. "I'm just going to put her on the bed for a moment. You'll be better off the less time you spend sitting there, I can't imagine it's very comfortable."

Mal was hesitant, and that surprised him. Still, he handed the newborn over to Inara. He watched as the baby squirmed and let out a squeaking cry as she was exchanged between the two of them, but she calmed down in Inara's arms. The Companion hushed the baby softly as she placed her down onto the bed, and as soon as the baby was settled down Inara turned back to Mal. He offered no resistance as she slipped an arm underneath his shoulder and heaved him to his feet. "Let's get you cleaned up," she said, steering him toward the bed.

The next few minutes were spent with Mal cleaning himself off and changing into a dry set of clothes, while Inara dealt with the evidence of his ordeal. All the while, Mal's attention was glued to the baby lying on the bed. Every so often she would squirm or cry, and his heart would jump in his chest. He didn't know where these nervous feelings were coming from, and he wasn't sure if he liked them or not.

After he was clean and back into fresh, non-sweaty clothes, Inara suggested they take the baby down to the infirmary and give her a quick checkup before the rest of the crew returned. At the mention of the crew, Mal felt a sickening sense of dread, but he knew that was going to happen sooner or later. Unlike before, he was not going to be able to keep the baby a secret. He was going to have to tell the crew about her... and Jayne. Jayne was going to know.

Mal wondered why he wasn't already panicking about that. He guessed he was just too tired to care. That would change.

As soon as he agreed to take the infant down to the infirmary, Inara picked her up and handed her to Mal carefully. This time he wasn't so reluctant to accept her, though it took a minute to figure out how to hold her properly. Inara seemed to find that funny, and he just rolled his eyes. He couldn't find the energy to laugh about any of this. Those thoughts of his were still leeching at his mind. They made him uncomfortable, yes, but at the same time, they made him feel... at ease? Content? He couldn't find a good word to describe it.

She was so small, so soft, so fragile.

Simply put... at first, Mal had wished the little thing inside of him didn't exist.

Now, he wasn't sure if he wanted to let her go.

**0-000-0**

**_Tah-shr suo-yo dee-yure duh biao-tze duh mah_** \- **whores in hell**


End file.
